


The Harmony of Hearts

by justheretoreadhannibalfics



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Cannibalism, Dark Will Graham, Hannibal POV, M/M, cajun will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23236711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretoreadhannibalfics/pseuds/justheretoreadhannibalfics
Summary: Hannibal hadn't met Abigail's guardian before, and he had been surprised when she told him to fetch her godfather rather than a parent. The cabin in the nearby woods proves that he is in for more surprises.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 45
Kudos: 583
Collections: Hannibal One Shots





	The Harmony of Hearts

Hannibal walked up the old wooden steps, glancing around.

Of everything he had considered, this was not what he had expected the home of Abigail’s godfather to look like. He had not expected them to live in the middle of the woods outside of town either.

The house seemed extremely old, but looked after. It had probably been neglected before this man moved in and fixed everything up. The old wood of the cabin showed places where it had clearly been recently replaced, and clear evidence of weathering. There was a wooden rocking chair on the far end of the porch, and around the onning were an assortment of wind chimes that lacked vibrant colors.

One wind chime caught Hannibal’s eye just as he was about to knock. It was made of bones, that much was clear, but he recognized one in specific. They were definitely human bones. 

How curious.

The air was still, but Hannibal was terribly curious about it, and wanted to hear the sound they made in a breeze.

The man who answered the door looked as scruffy as they come. He wore a green flannel shirt, ducking his head to keep the visor of his baseball cap as a barrier from eye contact. He certainly seemed the kind of man that would live in such a house, though he shifted his weight like he was about to flee at any moment.

“Hello,” he mumbled, staring down at Hannibal’s shoes.

“Good afternoon,” Hannibal replied, looking at the dark curls that escaped the cap, “I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I’m afraid there has been a slight accident involving Abigail.”

At this, the man’s head snapped up and he met Hannibal’s eyes for the first time. Concern swam in his sea foam eyes and he set his jaw.

“What happened?” he asked.

“May I come in? Or would you rather discuss it on the way to town?” Hannibal asked, gesturing to his car and trying to show that the story was long enough they would need a less temporary position.

The man seemed to debate that for a minute.

“Come in, but only so I can gather my things. Then I expect us to get on our way as quick as we can. If anyone hurt her-” the man stopped, seeming to think better of whatever he might have been intending to say. He glanced at Hannibal warily.

The inside of the house was similar to the outside, seeming old but recently repaired. There was a boat motor in one corner that was partly disassembled, and a desk covered with fishing flies. There were bookshelves lined with old copies of books, and a piano in one corner.

The man came back into view a moment later, a bag slung over one of his shoulders, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He kept his eyes down, and Hannibal wondered why.

“Alright. Let’s go. I assume you’re driving, since you know where we’re going,” The man said.

Hannibal nodded and led the way to his car. The man looked up and down the Bentley, seeming to add its presence to a mental list before he slid into the passenger seat.

As they pulled away, Hannibal looked once more to the curious wind chimes this man had made no effort to hide, thinking he likely didn’t have visitors often. At least not ones that also left.

“So what happened to Abigail?” the man asked, staring at the road ahead of them.

Hannibal hummed lightly.

“First, I am sorry about this, but I must ask that you confirm your identity. I am sure you are who I have been sent to collect, but legally I must confirm.” 

The man huffed, but nodded.

“I’m Will Graham. I’m Abigail’s unofficial godfather.”

Hannibal tipped his head.

“Unofficial?”

Will nodded, but shrugged.

“I’m not actually very close to her parents, but I’m sort of her guardian at the moment. She doesn’t talk to them anymore, and she’s technically an adult, so she gets to choose who her family is.”

Hannibal nodded.

“That is sufficient. Abigail was in a minor altercation as she left work today. Two young men approached her and made advances that she did not reciprocate,” Hannibal explained.

As Hannibal spoke, he could see Will’s hands curl into fists and grow pale as he tensed the muscles.

“Luckily, Abigail is capable of defending herself, and managed to keep from being terribly injured. She has a broken wrist from a few blows she landed on the boys, but they are in far worse shape than she.”

At that, Will smiled to himself. He released one of his fists and tapped his fingers along his leg absently. 

They pulled up outside the hospital and Will immediately got out. He waited and watched Hannibal, following where Hannibal led. He seemed very eager to see Abigail, but less intent on being the perceived leader of the pair.

Once they were at the door of her hospital room, Abigail looked up and smiled when she saw Will. Will walked in and took the chair by her side. He looked her over, likely making a mental note of every scratch and bruise he could see that he knew had not been there the last time he had seen her.

“Are you alright?” Will asked gently.

Abigail laughed lightly.

“Yeah. You should see the other guy,” She said jokingly, “I’m just glad Hannibal could get you. My phone fell out of my pocket and broke, so I couldn’t call you. I knew you wouldn’t answer a random phone number. I’m glad to see you didn’t chase Hannibal off your property with a shotgun.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows from where he stood in the doorway.

Abigail laughed again and waved at the other chairs in the room.

“I’m kidding, mostly,” she said, “Sit down, though. You’re allowed to be here, and Will isn’t going to run you out of here.”

Hannibal nodded and took a seat. Will watched him warily, but his focus was mostly on Abigail.

“How do you know Doctor Lecter?” Will asked, nodding at Hannibal.

Abigail rolled her eyes with a smile.

“I’ve told you about him before,” she said, “he’s a psychiatrist. I’ve seen him a couple times, since I have family problems and all that. He’s like a friend. He’s the only person I could think of to call, since I knew he would answer, and he’ll always help.”

Will nodded, then turned to Hannibal with a reluctantly appreciative expression.

“Thanks. I owe you one,” he said.

Hannibal smiled lightly.

“I am always pleased to help Abigail. She is a bright young woman. I’m surprised I have not heard more about you in our sessions, though.”

Abigail blushed lightly and looked to Hannibal apologetically.

“Sorry. Will doesn’t really like people to know about him before he knows about them. He likes to be the one to make the first impression on someone, instead of how I see him.”

Hannibal nodded.

“We often see our loved ones in a perfect light. You have an imago of Will, and I think he likely has one of you as well. It is very apt of him to prefer to keep that from being how others expect him to be.”

Abigail grinned, being used to hearing Hannibal talk that way. She had always enjoyed hearing him talk, whether it be about cooking, psychology, or classical music. She really was more of a friend than Hannibal had allowed any of his other patients to become. He had allowed it, in the beginning, because he could tell there was something in her past that was dark, and hidden. He had hope to draw it out into the light, and in doing so had allowed her to ingratiate herself into his life. 

To Hannibal’s own surprise, he hadn’t minded.

Will seemed oddly wary of Hannibal, especially considering how Abigail clearly liked him. Hannibal wondered why that might be.

“So, are you good to go, or do you need to stay in the hospital?” Will asked, gesturing to the lack of cast on Abigail’s arm. It was simply set with an ace bandage and in a sling.

Abigail gave him a sympathetic smile and shook her head.

“They have to wait for the swelling to go down before they can put an actual cast on it. Since I was technically in a fight, and I don’t exactly live nearby, they want me to stay here until that happens.”

Will sighed, but nodded in understanding. 

“Great. You should be able to come home tomorrow, then?” He asked.

Abigail nodded.

“Maybe sooner if the swelling goes down quickly,” she said, “Would you mind staying in town until I can go home with you? I don’t want to be an inconvenience, but I bet Hannibal could keep you company if you want to go out. We can take my car home when I can leave.”

Will pressed his lips together, displeased. He glanced over to where Hannibal was sitting, and Hannibal met him with a tipped head. 

Hannibal was very curious about this man. Abigail had always spoken of the outdoors fondly, and fishing, but she had never mentioned her godfather until today. He seemed very peculiar, and Hannibal wanted to learn more about him.

“I would be pleased to have the opportunity to cook for you,” Hannibal agreed, “I don’t often find myself surprised, but you are certainly an interesting one.”

Will grimaced, and Abigail rolled her eyes.

“Sorry Hannibal. Will doesn’t think much of psychiatrists. You’re going to have to really impress him with whatever you cook up to get him to relax around you.”

“Abigail.”

Will did not sound angry, more flustered. His cheeks had turned slightly pink, and he tapped his fingers along the armrest of the chair. 

“Then it is lucky I am a very good cook,” Hannibal answered, smiling more for Abigail’s benefit than anything, “And I think we should bring you something. You haven’t eaten yet? Hospital cafeteria food is severely lacking.”

Abigail grinned again, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Will, would you deign to help me prepare some adequate food for Abigail?” Hannibal asked, turning at last to the scruffy man that somehow managed to be some sort of guardian to the polite and prim Abigail.

Will looked up at his words, but his eyes didn’t make it any further than Hannibal’s tie. He nodded sharply and stood.

“Tell me right now if you need anything,” Will said to Abigail, “Anything at all. You know I will get it, or do it.”

The look in Will’s eyes was deadly serious, and Hannibal wondered if the wind chimes were because of something Will did for Abigail. 

Abigail met his gaze with one of her own, matching in seriousness.

“I’m fine, Will. Go with Hannibal, and come back with some food. I’m starved.”

Will set his jaw and nodded. He patted her shoulder and turned to face Hannibal. 

“Lead the way, Doctor,” He said.

Hannibal nodded and headed out to the car.

\---

Will stood like an out of place tree, studying Hannibal’s kitchen. His features were striking, now that Hannibal actually took the time to look at him. His dark curls and bright eyes were accentuated by the lighting of the kitchen. He did not seem to feel out of place, but he certainly did not look as if he belonged in a kitchen of any sort.

“Here,” Hannibal said lightly, handing Will and apron, “You may wash your hands in the sink, there. I rarely have companions when I cook. Forgive me if you are not comfortable.”

Will took the stark white cloth and tipped his head as he looked at it. He seemed to be seeing more than the cloth, and more than the room. He looked as if he could see more of everything than there was.

Will tied the apron around his waist and quickly washed his hands as Hannibal put out a cutting board and knife for him on the counter. Hannibal moved to the stove and prepared a few pans as he needed. He also took out the vegetables and cut of meat that he had decided on and set them by the cutting board for Will to use.

“What are we making?” Will asked, taking his place at the counter.

Hannibal looked up at him from what he had been doing. Will had taken off his cap and rolled his sleeves up. His hair fell in dark curls around his face and over his brow. 

“Lomo Saltado,” Hannibal answered, having to tear his eyes away from the other man, “Abigail has expressed a taste for more spicy dishes, and I had thought of serving this to her often. Now seems as good a time as any.”

Will nodded, his mouth taking on an appreciative twist.

“Then I assume there are specific instructions on how you want all of this cut,” he said, gesturing to the ingredients Hannibal had set out.

Hannibal hummed in agreement.

“Cut the beef into strips, if you will. The onion should be sliced. I will instruct you as you continue.”

Will seemed remarkably agreeable to that, despite the defiant nature he had shown Hannibal so far.

Hannibal prepared the marinade for the meat as he watched Will. 

As expected, Will was very skilled with a knife, cutting decisively and concisely. He made quick work of the meat and Hannibal took it to further prepare it as he moved on to the onion. Will was very receptive to instruction, seeming to know intuitively what Hannibal meant when he spoke. 

Once everything was ready, Hannibal set about cooking everything to perfection. Will came around the counter and leaned against it near the stove, watching Hannibal with veiled fascination.

“Abigail said you are from Lithuania,” Will said after a stretch of silence.

Hannibal glanced up, seeing that the vibrant blue eyes were not set to meet his. They were fixed on his hands, rather, as he cooked.

“Yes. I thought you had not paid attention to what Abigail told you about me,” Hannibal replied calmly.

Will shrugged.

“I pay attention. Forgive me for not remembering  _ everything _ in the moment I see my goddaughter in the hospital. I had other things on my mind at the moment.”

Hannibal smiled.

“You are forgiven. I see that as a viable excuse. Where are you from, Will?”

Will hesitated a moment, his eyes never leaving Hannibal’s hands as they worked.

“Louisiana,” he said at last.

Hannibal nodded.

“Are you Cajun? Your lifestyle would surely lend to that impression, and it would explain Abigail’s affinity for spicy food,” Hannibal said.

Will huffed a laugh, looking down at his shoes. His apron had light streaks of juices from the vegetables where he had dried his hands.

“Yeah. A bit. I was going to tell you it’s my fault, the spicy food. I’m not much of a cook, but she likes it well enough.”

Hannibal was growing to actually like Will. He was charming, if a bit abrasive at first. He also seemed clever, and there were things Hannibal still could not see. Hannibal was determined to learn it all.

“What brings you to the states?” Will asked after a pause, turning the conversation back to Hannibal.

“Medical school, at first,” Hannibal answered, “Then I grew to like it here. I have lived here far longer than I ever lived in my native country. What made you leave Louisiana?”

Will swallowed. He had turned a bit pale at Hannibal’s mention of medical school, but he shook it off and took a breath.

“Work,” he answered, then, after a pause, “And Abigail. I moved for work, but I stayed for her. She didn’t have anyone, and I wanted to fix that. Now we’re here for each other. She’s doing alright for herself.”

Hannibal nodded.

“Abigail is very capable for someone so young. I have often worried she has gone through much more than she should have, though she wears it well.”

Will grunted in agreement.

“She definitely has. I wish she hadn’t gone through half the things she has, but she’s strong, and smart. She doesn’t need as much protecting as I first thought.”

Hannibal considered this. The wind chimes definitely had something to do with Abigail, but he wasn’t sure if Will had done it, or only knew about it. 

Hannibal put the food into several dishes and clicked their lids into place before putting them all into a bag. He turned to Will, who was still watching his every move like a hunting wolf.

“Shall we go? Abigail should be pleased to see us again.”

Will nodded, taking off the apron and setting it unceremoniously on the counter before following Hannibal back to the car.

\---

“Wow. This could almost rival your gumbo, Will,” Abigail said, taking large bites from her dish. She smiled around each bite, and her eyes flicked between Hannibal and Will as if trying to figure out what they thought of each other.

Will smiled wryly.

“I’m sure it does more than that. You should see this guy’s kitchen, Abs. He’s basically a professional chef.”

Will took his first bite of the food and hummed in thought.

“I take that back. This is delicious, but not nearly as spicy as I expected from all your talk about impressing Abigail,” Will said, turning to look pointedly at Hannibal.

Hannibal smiled.

“I am not as familiar with what you consider to be spicy,” Hannibal said, “but I would be glad to learn.”

Will turned slightly pink in his ears, apparently not having expected that.

“Will! We should totally cook for Hannibal sometime!” Abigail said excitedly, “he has already done so much for me, and you. We really owe it to him, and it would be so fun. I think you guys could really become good friends. You are a lot alike.”

Will raised an eyebrow at her, seeming to not quite agree with that.

“Abs, I’m sure Hannibal doesn’t want to come out to the cabin, just to be fed some of our not fancy gumbo,” Will objected, “The guy wears tailored suits. He has expensive art, and cooks fancy dinners like it’s second nature.”

After saying this, Will glanced at Hannibal with a slight grimace.

“Sorry.”

Hannibal shook his head.

“No need to apologize. I am intrigued, and I would not be unhappy to have dinner with you both, if you are amenable to it.”

Will frowned, sighing.

“We don’t do anything fancy,” he said, trying a last ditch effort to make Hannibal not want to accept the invitation Abigail had impulsively extended, “you probably wouldn’t like being there.”

Hannibal smiled.

“If you wish for me to decline the offer, I will. I do not wish to cause you any discomfort, Will.”

Will turned to look at Abigail, who pouted her lip and batted her eyelashes at him in a comical display of pleading.

Will sighed dramatically and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Fine. Abigail can tell you when we decide on a day and time, I’m sure. She has a lot of work to do to get ready, though, so don’t expect it too soon.”

Will said this with a dramatized scowl at Abigail, who only beamed.

“Oh, Hannibal. It’s going to be so fun. We’ll make the best gumbo, and it’ll be fun. Just wait.”

Hannibal smiled at her and nodded.

“I am very much looking forward to it,” he replied.

“Now,” Abigail said, “Please tell me you guys talked about more things than just me while you were making dinner. The two most interesting people I know. You had to have something cool to talk about.”

Will huffed a quiet laugh.

“Knowing me,” he said, “What else do you think would have come up?”

Abigail seemed disappointed.

“I had hoped Hannibal would draw you out of your shell a bit,” she admitted.

Will looked over at Hannibal with casual disinterest, which intrigued Hannibal more than it should have.

“I don’t find him that interesting,” he told Abigail.

Hannibal planned to change that. If it was the last thing he did, Will would find him interesting. At least as interesting as Hannibal found Will.

\---

“Hannibal! I’m so glad you came. Will has been grumbling about how you probably didn’t want to come and were just being polite. He thought you were going to stand us up.”

Abigail’s energy was interesting. Hannibal had only rarely seen her excited about anything, but she was ecstatic to be having Hannibal over for dinner. Hannibal smiled in return and assured her he had genuinely wanted to come.

Hannibal noticed on his way in that the wind chimes had been removed from the front of the house.

Abigail led Hannibal through the house to the kitchen. It was smaller than Hannibal’s but still a good size. Will was wearing a stained apron and standing at the stove. Hannibal could smell the cooking food, and it certainly did smell much more spicy than anything he would typically make.

Will glanced over his shoulder when Hannibal walked in, and nodded in acknowledgement. He was wearing a green long sleeved shirt and a tan vest, as if he might go out fishing. His hair was unobscured by a hat of any kind today, and for that Hannibal was glad. Hannibal had to mentally amend his previous thought of Will. He certainly seemed to belong in this kitchen.

“Come sit down,” Abigail said, pulling Hannibal toward a small round table.

Hannibal sat where Abigail gestured to and surveyed his surroundings.

“Will has been fussing over everything since the day I said we should cook for you,” Abigail said, “I’ve never seen him so concerned about how the cabin looks. I think he even bought this table cloth just for tonight.”

Hannibal looked down at the forest green cloth that covered the table. It smelled of packaging, still, so he would agree with her on that count. 

“I wonder what could make him go through all the trouble for someone he doesn’t find interesting,” Hannibal mused.

Abigail smiled.

“He only said that to rub you the wrong way, you know,” she said, “He really likes to poke at people if he thinks they think they’re better than him. Lots of people treat him weird because he lives out here and acts a bit off.”

Hannibal nodded. 

“Are you saying he does find me interesting?” Hannibal asked, adding a teasing note to his tone, “or trying to make me feel better for him not finding me interesting.”

Abigail shrugged.

“I don’t know, honestly. I thought you two would really connect, but I can’t tell if he likes you or just doesn’t want to look like a total redneck in front of someone who actually has a social life.”

“Abs, I can hear everything you are saying, you know,” Will called from the kitchen.

Abigail grinned and turned her eyes toward the sound.

“Then why don’t you come join the conversation? I’m sure the gumbo is done by now. You’ve been fussing for hours,” She called back.

There was a huff from the kitchen, and the sound of a few things being shuffled around before Will emerged and sat. He cast an amused glance to Abigail before he turned to Hannibal.

“I’m sorry about Abigail. We don’t have company often. She apparently gets excited easily.”

Hannibal smiled.

“It’s a pleasure, actually. I have never seen her so pleased. Even with me, she rarely acts this familiar, and I enjoy finding out the other side of people’s lives.”

Will raised an eyebrow, his eyes never straying farther up than Hannibal’s chin. 

“You are not fond of eye contact,” Hannibal noticed.

Will turned his gaze down to the table cloth, pressing his lips into a firm frown. 

“No. I’m not,” he said, “I’ve learned there are some things that are better not to know, and I always find them out if I let myself get too comfortable. Eyes can say too much.”

Hannibal’s interest was piqued, and he studied Will from where he sat.

Will did not seem remarkable from his outward appearance. He was naturally handsome, but that would not translate to anything internal. He looked almost as if he tried to keep from seeming interesting. 

Abigail seemed to have grown nervous with the turn of conversation. She twisted the hem of the table cloth between her fingers, flicking her eyes between the two of them.

“Most people would recognize that as a common sign of autism,” Hannibal noted.

Abigail’s eyes grew wide when they turned to Will for his response.

Will offered a wry smile, his eyes making their way up to Hannibal’s tie.

“I’m closer to autism and aspergers than narcissists and psychopaths, on the scale, Doctor Lecter,” he replied, “and maybe now you can get a sense for why I don’t much like psychiatrists.”

Hannibal nodded, humming in thought.

“Psychiatrists must see you as either a classic case of autism, or a particularly fascinating case of neuroses. I imagine they would attempt to convince you to be more social, when in truth it is not for lack of trying on your part, but lack of reception from those around you that causes you to avoid it. You can see clearly into the minds and lives of others, and that bothers them.”

Will grimaced and stood suddenly.

“I need to do something,” he said by way of an excuse before stalking back toward the kitchen.

Abigail leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone to keep Will from hearing her.

“I’m so sorry. He has an empathy disorder, so psychiatrists try to open his head whenever they can. He probably thinks you’re just trying to get at him like that. You’re right, but that’s going to bother him more than if you had been wrong. He doesn’t like to be psychoanalyzed.”

Hannibal nodded.

“I am very sorry if I have upset him. I suppose I had hoped to make myself more interesting to him.”

There was a clang of something being dropped and Abigail stood quickly.

“Don’t worry!” Will called, sounding flustered, “I’ve got it.”

Abigail sat back down, and Hannibal was pleased.

He had not matched Abigail’s hushed tone, though he had lowered his voice a bit. It was just enough that Will would not have heard him unless he had been purposefully listening to what he had said.

“I do hope I have not made him angry with me,” Hannibal continued, “I had hoped I might see you both more often.”

Abigail grinned.

“I think Will really needs to get out more,” she said, “He hardly ever leaves the cabin, unless he’s going fishing. He’s always alone, unless I’m around. Maybe you and I can get him to be more social. Who knows, he might even make a friend or two.”

Will reentered, carrying bowls of what Hannibal assumed to be gumbo. He set one down in front of each of them.

Looking into his bowl, Hannibal had to admit it was not the most aesthetically pleasing dish. It smelled edible, though.

Abigail started eating right off, seeming to be in a very good mood about everything. She was forced to eat with her left hand, though that hardly slowed her down at all. She seemed to enjoy the food as much as the company, and that gave Hannibal some hope. Will was watching Hannibal rather than beginning to eat. 

Hannibal lifted a bite of the gumbo to his lips and ate it.

It was far more spicy than he had anticipated, but it was delicious. Hannibal allowed himself to emit a pleased humm as he ate. 

“I am not disappointed,” Hannibal said, nodding to Will, “you have lived up to the reputation Abigail has built for you. This is delicious.”

Will seemed satisfied enough to begin eating from his own bowl. 

“Abigail has a very high opinion of my gumbo,” Will admitted, “but she also has a high opinion of you. I expect you to live up to your reputation at least as well as the gumbo does.”

Abigail seemed surprised and pleased by his words. They must have been very outgoing for him. 

“I apologize for my analytical ambush. It was abrupt and rude of me. I did not intend to cause you any discomfort. I hope it will not sour your opinion of me,” Hannibal offered.

Will shrugged.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not overly particular when it comes to manners. I just don’t much like when people try to sift through my head. Lucky for you, Abigail likes you, and you’re smart. I don’t expect you to ruin that by doing anything I can’t forgive.”

Hannibal nodded.

“I don’t intend to,” He agreed.

Will nodded, turning his attention back to his bowl of food and seeming to drop the conversation.

Hannibal was very pleased.

\---

Abigail sat in the chair of Hannibal’s waiting room, reading from a paperback. She had a new one almost every time Hannibal saw her, and it stirred a feeling of affection in his chest.

Abigail looked up when he opened the door, and grinned up at him.

“Abigail, please come in.”

Abigail stood and walked through the doorway to his office. Her hair was up in a pretty bun, and she was wearing an army green blazer. 

“You wouldn’t believe it, Hannibal,” Abigail said, happily sitting down in her seat, “Will has been working over the house like we’re hosting a party. You really must have made an impression on him. I think he even combed his hair the other day.”

Hannibal smiled. 

“How curious. I wouldn’t have known he didn’t comb his hair daily, “ Hannibal replied, taking his own seat with growing amusement, “are you sure he isn’t planning to host a party without telling you?”

Abigail laughed.

“I don’t know if he’d like your teasing, but I know he’d never try having a party. He doesn’t even like going to parties.”

Hannibal nodded, pulling a sketchbook onto his lap and opening it to a fresh page. 

“Then I suppose he would also be adverse to accompanying me to an art gallery,” he said, sketching out the beginnings of a new drawing.

Abigail’s eyes grew wide.

“Are you serious?” She asked.

Hannibal lifted his eyes to smile at her.

“There is one in nearby that has quite a good selection, and I thought you would enjoy going with me. Will is invited, of course. I wouldn’t think of leaving him at home.”

Abigail’s grin grew wider and she nearly jumped with excitement.

“That sounds amazing. I’m sure Will couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. I’ll beg him if I have to. Are you really sure?”

Hannibal chuckled lightly.

“It would be my pleasure. I’m sure Will would do anything you ask him to. I dare say he would do anything short of murder for your sake.”

Abigail’s smile faltered, but she quickly shook it off with a laugh.

“He’s always been the protective type when it comes to me. He feels bad about all my family drama, and feels like he has to make up for my life before him,” she said, “I’d say you’re just about right. I try not to take full advantage of him, of course.”

“Of course,” Hannibal agreed.

“When do you want to take us to the gallery? Should we dress up? Do you think Will should shave? He’s let his beard grow out a bit since he moved to the cabin. I’ve never been to a gallery before. I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

Abigail’s eyes were sparkling with excitement and her hands patted her legs for emphasis as she imagined all she could about the outing. She was nearing the end of her time in the cast, and the slight twitches of her fingers betrayed how she itched for it to be gone already.

“Abigail, I’m sure you have good reason to be excited,” Hannibal said calmly, “but I think you would do well to ask Will about his participation before you allow yourself to become far too invested in the idea. Next Saturday was when I had in mind”

Abigail nodded, breathing slowly to calm herself down. She tapped her fingers on her leg in a calming rhythm. 

“You’re right, obviously. Will just doesn’t ever leave the cabin, really, and I have never seen him go somewhere as nice as an art gallery.”

Hannibal was pleased to hear all of this. It would be interesting to see Will in such an environment, especially since it seemed so out of his element. He was interested to see how Will would compensate for his lack of experience.

“Nothing would please me more than to see you enjoy yourself,” Hannibal said, “and I think Will would share that sentiment.”

Abigail nodded vigorously. 

“Aside from your enthusiasm for my offer, how have you been doing since I saw you last?” Hannibal asked.

Abigail rolled her shoulders and leaned back in the chair.

“Well, I’ve been helping Will to fix everything up as new,” Abigail related, seeming amused, “and I’ve gone fishing with him twice. He doesn’t really like to take me hunting, but I can convince him every now and then. He’s one of the best outdoors men I’ve ever met, and with a father like mine, that’s saying something.”

Hannibal nodded. 

Abigail had been hesitant to talk about her father when she first came to see him, but he had slowly prodded her enough that she had opened up about her problems with him.

Garrette Jacob Hobbs had been loving up until the moment he hadn’t. Abigail had known a fair childhood until she entered her senior year of high school. Her father had slowly dissolved into madness at the notion of her leaving their home. Abigail’s tale grew vague when it came to exactly what he had done that scared her and her mother, but her mother had managed to pack them up and leave in the dead of night. 

“When did you meet Will?” Hannibal asked.

Abigail tipped her head at the question and considered for a moment.

“Basically the moment mom and I came into this area. Our car broke down, I told you about that. We were on an old empty road, and we didn’t have anyone we could call. Will came driving along in his beat up car with three dogs in the back. He asked if we needed help. He took one look under the hood and knew how to fix it. I don’t know exactly why he had all the stuff in his car ready to fix it, but thank goodness he did. The funniest part was that my mom was worried about accepting help from him at first. He doesn’t exactly look like the most trustworthy type when you’re two girls stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

That amused Hannibal. There was certainly no ‘type’ that could be trusted in that kind of situation. Hannibal was proof enough of that, not to mention there were some well known killers that had been caught after taking advantage of just such a circumstance who would have seemed trustworthy.

“That is very fortunate,” Hannibal mused.

Abigail nodded.

“I think Will is more glad it happened than my mom or I. He invited us over so he could give our car a once over and feed us some late dinner. That was the first time I tasted his gumbo, and mom told him a bit about our problems. Will has really been a godsend, Hannibal.”

Hannibal smiled.

“So not only is his food delicious, but it has sentimental value to you. I don’t see any room for my own to compete,” Hannibal said, feigning disappointment.

Abigail laughed.

“Your food is delicious, and fancy, but Will is basically my dad. He saved my life in more ways than you will ever know.”

She paused, seemingly surprised at herself for the words. She watched Hannibal for any reaction.

“Will really doesn’t like me to talk about him, though,” Abigail said, trying to move the conversation, “I’m sure you will get a chance to talk about whatever you want with him. I want you guys to get to know each other. You are both kind of like father figures to me, though Will is obviously a bit more so.”

She gave Hannibal an apologetic smile at her last words, but Hannibal just smiled and shook his head.

“I would never presume to even approach the same level as Will in your life. I only hope he sees how clearly I am not a threat to his position. I can imagine he would be slow to forgive.”

Abigail nodded.

“Don’t worry. He knows there’s no one like him, and if he worried, he would talk to me. We don’t have any secrets.”

Hannibal smiled.

That cleared at least that bit up. If the wind chime was Abigail’s doing, then Will knew all about it. Will was certainly willing to do something of that drastic nature if Abigail were involved, but Hannibal wanted to know exactly how hard he would have to be pushed.

“What are you reading this week?”

Abigail smiled, picking her book back up to show it to him. 

\---

Hannibal was anticipating the upcoming outing nearly as much as Abigail. He was terribly and enticingly curious about Will Graham. 

The man who made wind chimes from human bones. The man who protected Abigail with his life, and made gumbo and socialized only for her pleasure. A man who could see too much, and yet kept to himself.

Hannibal wanted to learn everything there was to know about Will Graham. Luckily for him, Abigail wanted that as well, perhaps to a smaller degree.

Abigail had been wrong when she said they were very alike, but not completely.

The truth was that Will was unlike Hannibal in almost every way, but they seemed to share a taste for the darker things in life, and Will could easily see through Hannibal’s eyes. Will and Hannibal might not be alike, but they mirrored each other perfectly, accentuating what in each other they could bring out.

Hannibal was deciding on a suit to wear to the gallery. He might have chosen a tuxedo, but he did not want to make either Abigail or Will feel under dressed, whatever they chose. Obviously, his suits were going to have that effect, unless Will secretly had a stash of tailored suits for special occasions, but Hannibal wanted to choose one of his less fancy options.

He settled on a light blue suit with a bright pink tie and handkerchief to add color. 

It was relatively plain, considering what his wardrobe consisted of, but he really did want Will to feel comfortable for the outing, and he hoped this would do the trick.

The fact that Hannibal was so invested in Will Graham, after only so few interactions, did concern Hannibal a bit. He did not typically allow himself to fixate on anyone, especially someone he did not intend to kill in the near future. There was never anyone worth focusing on, so he simply did not waste the time and energy.

Will Graham, though. There was something so intrinsically fascinating about him. He reminded Hannibal of a book where each time you read it you find new and interesting tidbits that you had not noticed the several times before. Every time Hannibal saw the man, there was something new and striking that drew him in further. 

Hannibal knew the fascination could be dangerous for him, but he was anything but a coward when it came to taking risks with the potential reward in mind.

Perhaps he would comb his hair a bit differently. Let it fall towards his brow so he did not appear so harsh. 

\---

Abigail stepped out of the car with a bright smile on her face. Hannibal met it with his own. She was dressed in a dark green, satin blouse that had flowers sewn along a diagonal down the front, and brown leather boots. She looked very pretty.

Then Will stepped out of the car, standing up straight with confidence.

Hannibal felt as though his breath had left him. 

Of everything he had expected, he had not been prepared for what he saw.

Will was wearing a suit the same color of Abigail’s blouse, with a tie the same color as Hannibal’s suit. He had definitely trimmed his beard, and it was now just a layer of scruff along his jaw. His hair had been done with care, falling into a perfect curl over his forehead. Even his posture was different, his shoulders set and his head held up. 

When Will turned and looked toward Hannibal, Hannibal could see that his eyes had changed color, and matched the fabric of his suit. 

This was very dangerous.

Abigail walked over to Hannibal, still smiling brightly.

“Hannibal! Will said that since this is the kind of place you go to, we should try to do something to fit in better. That’s why he’s wearing a suit. He really didn’t want to draw too much attention by looking like a lumberjack. Do you think it’s gonna work?”

Hannibal’s mouth was dry, but he swallowed and managed to tear his eyes away to look back to Abigail.

“I think he will fit in perfectly,” Hannibal replied.

Honestly, Hannibal thought Will would draw attention, but in the same way the paintings and sculptures would. He would fit in perfectly with the art pieces, more so than the dull company to be found inside.

Will walked up to them, his eyes sweeping over Hannibal’s suit with an appraising look. 

“Well, at least I don’t feel under dressed,” Will said.

Hannibal was finding it hard to come up with his usually eloquent words to reply. Was Will purposefully sabotaging him? Surely that was the only explanation for why Hannibal’s mind had stopped functioning.

“Of course. You both look wonderful,” Hannibal said, trying to keep himself from staring.

Will smirked.

“Abigail has been looking forward to this like it’s Christmas,” he said, “so this had better impress her. She has a better eye for this kind of thing than I do.”

Hannibal nodded.

“I do not think she will be disappointed. There are some really beautiful works of art here,” Hannibal replied, ushering them toward the entrance.

Will’s steps were even and confident, and Hannibal was very distracted as they entered the gallery. Under the bright lights, his eyes seemed even more vibrant and his features more striking.

Abigail seemed to be soaking the environment in through her skin, her eyes open wide to see everything. She seemed to be nearly glowing with joy as she looked around and drank in the sights.

Will smiled as he watched her, more to himself than anything. It was soft, and made the corners of his eyes crinkle pleasantly. He didn’t really pay attention to the artworks, choosing to watch Abigail enjoy herself.

“Hannibal, I’m sure you could tell me all about any painting here, couldn’t you?” Abigail said, waving him over to join her.

Hannibal walked up to stand with her, and smiled lightly.

“I would certainly do my best to answer any questions you may have,” he replied.

Abigail nodded. 

She spent a good fifteen minutes dragging Hannibal to one painting after the other and asking him about it. She listened intently as he would relate the story behind each piece, and seemed to be trying to find one he didn’t know. He decided not to tell her he had frequented this gallery at one time, and had learned about each of the pieces there. 

“What about this one?” Abigail said.

Hannibal tore his eyes away from where they had once again landed on Will, who had been following them quietly the entire time. 

“Ah. The judgement of Paris,” Hannibal said, smiling.

Abigail tipped her head.

“Tell me about it?” She asked.

Hannibal wondered exactly what her intentions were by asking him to fill her head with all the information he had for each painting, but he continued to indulge.

“Three goddesses were arguing over the golden apple,” Hannibal explained, “Which had instructions to be given to the most fair. They found a mortal man who would be less inclined to bias than the other gods, to judge which of them should have it. They each bribed him with gifts of their patron areas. Paris chose to give the apple to Aphrodite, or Venus, in exchange for the most beautiful woman on earth. This was the act that will be credited for the beginning of the Trojan war. Paris chose beauty over wisdom and wealth, which many wise and wealthy would agree was the proper choice.”

Hannibal couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to Will as he spoke, and was relieved to find that the man was not looking at him, but rather at the painting he had just spoken of. His eyes roamed over the pictured scene with sparks of interest, understanding, and something else Hannibal could not identify.

Abigail seemed satisfied that she would not find a piece Hannibal did not know, and she wandered off to view the art independently. Hannibal and Will fell in step next to each other as they followed behind her at a distance.

“I would dare say Abigail is rather enjoying herself,” Hannibal said, allowing himself to lean in closer to Will as he spoke, despite the relative quiet of the gallery making it unnecessary. 

Will nodded, keeping that same soft smile.

“She has always been very smart. She soaks up information like a sponge. I bet I’ll be hearing her talk about this for weeks yet,” he answered, then glanced up to meet Hannibal’s eyes, “Thank you.”

Hannibal was as pleased as anything, and seeing Will looking so happy and well made him all the more pleased to be there with him. If he could see Will every day, forever, he would remember him as he looked in that moment. 

“You do not need to thank me. I enjoy seeing her happy, perhaps as much as you do. It is my pleasure. I should be thanking you for coming. I was unsure you would.”

Will nodded.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Abigail is my one weakness. When she asks, I can’t say no. I can’t figure why you would want me to come, though. I’m not very good company.”

Will believed every word he was saying, and Hannibal could hear it in his voice. 

“I disagree,” Hannibal said, before he had given it a second thought.

Will turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh? Please, Doctor. Proceed.”

Hannibal swallowed, trying to think quickly and not make Will uncomfortable.

“You are certainly not typically skilled at being social,” Hannibal admitted, “but I am not attracted to many things that fall within the realm of typical. I enjoy uniqueness and individuality, which you possess in copious amounts. Despite your clear talents and intelligence, you are not arrogant, which I admire.”

At Will’s silence, Hannibal worried he had said something a bit too much. Perhaps he should not have used the word attracted. Maybe Will thought he was trying to get into his head like other psychiatrists. Nothing was going how Hannibal had planned.

After a moment, Hannibal noticed Will was shaking. He grew concerned immediately. 

Had he made Will angry? Was Will crying? Was he having a panic attack? What was happening?

Then Will tipped his head back, and his laughing became audible. His hair fell away from his face and his wide grin was bright. His laughter was clear and unburdened, sounding relaxed and genuinely happy.

“I’m sorry,” Will managed, still shaking with laughter, “I just- Oh my god- I didn’t expect the suit to work that well. Abigail said you’d be crazy not to be into me after tonight, but I still thought I’d have to try. I’m sorry.”

Hannibal was actually at a loss for words. Will was absolutely radiant. Had he truly been intending for this? 

“How about this?” Will said, still catching his breath, “After this, you come over to our place, and we can make a night of it?” 

Hannibal wasn’t sure he knew exactly what that entailed, but he was completely enamored, and there was nothing he could do but accept. 

Abigail spent an hour taking in every piece of art, and Hannibal was pleased to see that she enjoyed it so much. He had been disappointed to find that many young people found they did not have a taste for such things, or believed they did not have the patience for it. Abigail seemed to belong almost as well as anyone, and perhaps more than most. She was absolutely in awe over everything, and her smile was brilliant.

The drive to the cabin was nearly torturous, as Hannibal’s mind went over what in the world Will might have in mind. 

In all honesty, Hannibal had intended to invite them both over to his own house for dinner after the gallery. He had not planned for Will to beat him to it.

The old cabin came into view between trees, and Hannibal saw the wind chimes had been put back in place. They hung from the portico, and the cool evening breeze made them swing and emanate a haunting, hollow echo of sound that was only befitting of something crafted as they were.

Will’s jeep was already out front, and empty. Hannibal walked up the steps, admiring the wind chimes as he hadn’t had time to before. They were truly very well made, and he wondered about the hands that had made them.

Will opened the door when Hannibal was poised to knock, and grinned up at him. He had discarded his blazer and the top button of his shirt was undone. His tie hung loosely around his neck. Abigail grinned at Hannibal over Will’s shoulder.

“Abigail insisted I let her cook this time,” Will said, beckoning him in, “Apparently I was a bit obsessive last time you came. She wants to be able to say she cooked for you.”

Hannibal smiled at the pair in front of him. They had a natural comfort between them that reminded him more of family than any families he had seen since he was a child. It was refreshing, and stirred an odd and forgotten feeling of longing in his chest.

“Will,” Abigail called over her shoulder on her way to the stove, “You should play for Hannibal. I bet he would love that.”

Will shot an unreceived look at her, and sighed. He turned back to Hannibal with a nervous shrug.

“Do you play?” Hannibal asked, remembering that there was a piano in the front room of the house. It would be interesting to see.

Will shook his head as if knowing what Hannibal was thinking.

“The violin,” he corrected, “Though I play it like a fiddle. Probably not the way you are used to hearing. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

He seemed to be hoping Hannibal would ask him not to play, but Hannibal was far too intrigued at this point to let it pass. Every time he turned around, there seemed to be something new about this man, and it was always a surprise. 

“I would very much like to hear it,” Hannibal said.

Will sighed. He turned and headed toward the front room and retrieved a violin case that looked to have seen quite a bit of use. The violin he took from it was plain, but well made and obviously well used.

“I’m warning you,” Will said as he adjusted the bow, “Cajun music is an acquired taste. I don’t expect you to enjoy this, but I guess we’ll see.”

Hannibal was set in a chair and waited anxiously for Will to begin. 

When Will finally began, Hannibal was struck by the sight. Will’s posture was perfect, but he was right when he had said the music was different. The bow flew over the strings and his fingers hopped. He tapped his foot to keep time in his head, and he stared into the distance with a light smile on his face. It was clear he was far away at the moment, and Hannibal wondered what kind of scene he could see.

Part way through, Abigail emerged from the kitchen to clap in time with the music. She was grinning and tapping her toe in time with Will’s. 

Hannibal didn’t quite understand why, but every moment with these two made him long for a life like theirs. He had never wanted to live in any situation other than his own, but seeing them act with such comfort, confidence, and ease made him ache to have the same. They were so clearly happy with their life, and it made Hannibal realize he had never truly been happy with his own.

The music ended, and Abigail led Hannibal into a chorus of clapping as she cheered and whooped.

Will shook his head, laughing at them both, and Hannibal realized he was grinning. Hannibal hadn’t smiled so wide for a long time.

“Alright. Is supper on then?” Will asked when Abigail finally quieted down.

Abigail nodded and waved at them both to follow her into the dining room.

The set up was much like the last time Hannibal had eaten there, and Abigail was sure to seat Hannibal next to Will. Will rolled his eyes at her, but smiled and sat back casually. 

The food this time was not as spicy, and clearly had not been made with as much practice and experience as Will’s dish had been, but Hannibal found himself enjoying it. He felt as if he could taste Abigail’s enthusiasm and personality in each bite. Will made casual conversation with her over how she should try preparing it differently in the future if she wanted to be able to compete with his, and she listened carefully, eating slowly so she would be able to taste the differences she was going to make.

“So,” Will said after a bit of their familial banter, turning to Hannibal, “What do you think?”

Hannibal hummed.

“About your playing, or her cooking?” he replied, smiling playfully.

Will blushed, apparently not having expected Hannibal to ask a question in return.

“Uh, both. Either. The cooking?” Will answered, stumbling over his words a bit and making Abigail giggle.

“I think Abigail has done a wonderful job,” Hannibal replied, “And I enjoyed your playing immensely.”

Will turned a darker shade of red and shoved more food into his mouth to avoid having to reply.

Abigail was very amused.

“Hannibal. After this, we should go out back and start up a fire. It’s even better to listen to his music outside, when the sun has just gone down and the fireflies start coming out. If we’re lucky, we can get him to sing too.”

Will choked and coughed on the food he had been shoving unceremoniously into his mouth.

“Abs!” he objected. He sounded almost offended. “You really don’t care for my privacy, do you?”

Abigail tipped her head in a dramatized show of exasperation.

“Come on, Will. It’s not like he’s going to go around telling everyone about you. He knows how to keep a secret.”

She winked at Hannibal, who smiled back. He was now determined to hear Will sing, no matter the cost. 

“You know, Hannibal,” Abigail continued, turning toward him despite Will’s look of despair, “Will really has a nice voice. He was probably a real killer when he was younger. I mean, I guess he still is.”

Will raised his eyebrows at her in warning, and Hannibal could see the glint of amusement in Abigail’s eyes. She had just made a joke. 

So Will was definitely very much involved in whatever it was they did to create the wind chime. The only thing that stopped Hannibal from revealing that he knew in that moment, was the fear of scaring him away. 

“Will, if you are worried about embarrassing yourself, I would offer to play the piano for you both before that. It might be a sort of exchange of performances, if you will.”

Will hesitated, shooting Abigail another annoyed look.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t know if I’d be able to get myself to sing tonight anyway, and I wouldn’t want you to feel you’ve been had.”

Hannibal smiled.

“Nonsense. I shall play for you both, whether or not I am repaid with what I wish for. It would please me. You have already done so much on my behalf,” Hannibal said, dismissing Will’s concern.

Will shrugged and continued to eat. Abigail looked like she was having the time of her life, grinning and watching the both of them. Hannibal was probably almost as pleased as she was. The night may not have gone how he had planned, but it was going far better than he had imagined it would.

When Hannibal was done, he set himself at the piano and began to play something soft and classical. Abigail soon joined him and Will followed close after. They sat and listened for a bit, and Hannibal played a few songs. Nothing was nearly as exciting as what Will had played on the violin, but they were beautiful pieces, and some of his favorites. 

“I prefer the harpsichord, myself,” Hannibal said as he finished the last song, “But there are some things that I can appreciate about the piano, especially in a moment such as this.”

Abigail and Will clapped when he finished, and he turned to them to give a slight bow.

“I don’t think that piano has ever had something that nice played on it, and this cabin has definitely never had something that nice played _ in _ it,” Will said, “I still can’t promise I’ll sing, but that was very kind of you, Doctor Lecter.”

Hannibal nodded to him and Abigail leapt from her seat.

“Will, please can we have a bonfire?” She begged, despite the fact that he had never verbally disagreed with the idea, “It really would be so fun, and we haven’t done it in a while, and I think Hannibal would love it. Really. Please.”

Will gave her an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes and hiding his smile.

“Alright, but only if you promise that next time we hunt, you do all the clean up, and you help me with my own project,” Will said. 

Apparently, cleaning up after a hunt was something Abigail didn’t enjoy. She pouted and tipped her head to try to be as pathetic as possible.

“Daaaad,” she said, seemingly unaware of the slip.

The word, despite the tone in which it was said, softened Will immensely, and he smiled fondly at her.

“We can negotiate later,” he said, standing up, “There’s work to be done just now.”

Abigail smiled and waved for Hannibal to follow them both out to the backyard. There was a clearing lined with thick trees, and a large, round fireplace seemingly just for such a time. Will stacked up some logs and started a fire before he did anything else.

Once the fire was going, Will set out some sturdy wooden chairs for them and pulled out his violin again.

The sun went down and the first few fireflies blinked into existence as Will played the first notes of the song. 

The sound of his fiddle in the outdoors, paired with the natural hum of the forest, gave the setting an ambiance that was cozy, and slightly ethereal. The firelight cast flickering shadows and reminded Hannibal of tales of fairies and witches that danced in the night.

The figure Will cut in the night only added to the nearly unreal feeling that filled Hannibal to his ears. Dynamic shadows danced over his face and a light breeze tousled his hair. The distant sound of his morbid wind chimes flowed with the music and his body swayed with each sharp movement of the bow over the strings.

It was something Hannibal could only truly describe as magical.

\---

Hannibal stood when a particular song struck his fancy, and in a moment of impulsiveness, he held his hand out to Abigail with a soft smile.

“Would you join me for a dance?” he asked, discarding his blazer on his chair.

Abigail raised an eyebrow, but smiled and stood to join him.

There was plenty of room to dance, and the grass was soft and the ground was even under their feet. The music called for a type of dancing that Hannibal was not practiced in as much as some others, but he would manage.

Abigail was as graceful as a doe, and the lights of fireflies flickered around them as they turned, and she spun. She laughed and they smiled, and the fire seemed to dance with them. 

As they danced, and Will played, they fell into a comfortable rhythm with each other, where they could almost sense how the other would move, and move to match them. Abigail let her hair down and it fanned around her when she spun, making her look all the more like a woodland elf. 

Hannibal was impressed by the grace Abigail showed as her feet flew over the grass and her body turned in the low light. 

This was a night of surprises.

A new song began, and as Hannibal turned Abigail once more, he almost stopped when he heard Will’s voice.

Will’s singing started low, the swell of his voice smooth and deep. As he went on, the sound grew in energy and volume. The words did not match the notes, or follow them as most songs did. They seemed to move independently, but interact with the melody in much the same way Abigail danced with Hannibal. They danced around each other, matching and diverging and flowing. 

Hannibal had never thought something so seemingly unsophisticated and strange could stir the feelings that it did. 

Looking back to Will, he seemed completely swept up in the song, not watching his company. He stared into the fire with a smile on his face as he sang and played from his heart.

Hannibal actually allowed himself to lose track of time, but after a while Will slowed the music to silence, and they all took their seats again. They shared a companionable silence, listening to the sounds of the woods and watching the fire or the lightning bugs. 

After a good twenty minutes, Hannibal decided to break the silence.

“Will Graham,” he mused, drawing the eyes of his companions, “If the devil were to come down to Virginia, he would lose his golden fiddle to you. I never put much stock in that tale until tonight.”

Will laughed aloud, and it was a pleasant, barking laugh. Abigail smiled as well, and everything was perfect.

“I doubt the devil would try to barter for my soul,” Will replied, sitting back and staring up at the stars, “I think it probably already belongs to him. I’m not exactly a saint.”

Hannibal smiled.

“A man who rescues stranded young women and protects them with his life, regards himself as a condemned soul,” Hannibal laughed.

Will shrugged.

“Plenty of people help stranded travelers,” he said, “and my good deeds don’t hardly outweigh the bad. I’ve done things worse than I am willing to admit. Even to Abigail.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow at Will, and Hannibal tipped his head. 

Did Will’s conscience weigh on him so terribly? He certainly did not act as if he were a man with an unforgivable sin on his mind. He moved and spoke with such ease, even when he claimed he was damned. Hannibal was terribly curious.

“It can be hard to admit our faults to the ones we love, especially if they so ardently admire us,” he said.

Will shrugged.

“Yeah,” he conceded.

They returned to their comfortable silence as the fire crackled. They watched as the logs burned down to coals, and the air grew slightly colder around them. Will stood and played a slow tune on his violin, which must have been some sort of signal, because Abigail stood and began gathering her chair. Hannibal stood as well, and Abigail switched on a flashlight to guide him. They put their chairs away and Abigail took a bucket of water over to the fire pit. There was a plume of steam when she put out the coals, and Will followed them into the house, playing all the while.

When they were all inside, Will stopped playing and put his violin back into its case until the next time he would play to put the devil himself to shame. He and Abigail had a hushed conversation before she nodded and smiled at Hannibal.

“Goodnight, Hannibal,” she said, her voice soft to keep the hushed atmosphere they had retained. 

Hannibal nodded to her and she walked down the darkened hall where she shut a door behind her.

Will turned back to Hannibal with a tilted head and a coy smile.

“Well, I don’t think I should keep you,” Will said, walking toward the door, “You are a busy man, and you have work in the morning I bet. It wouldn’t do for you to be distracted or tired at your office.”

Hannibal followed, and when Will stopped at the door, he made sure to be very near when he turned.

Will faced him, looking directly into his eyes, almost challenging.

“Doctor Lecter,” he said quietly.

Hannibal moved forward and captured Will’s mouth in a kiss, pressing him against the door. Will made a soft sound, and Hannibal swallowed it. Will gripped at Hannibal’s tie, and held it so Hannibal would stay in place. Hannibal put one hand on the door next to Will’s shoulder and the other cupped around the back of Will’s neck. 

The kiss was long, soft, and exploratory. Will seemed content to let Hannibal keep him there, and Hannibal wanted to. Hannibal wanted so much in that moment, but he was also content to stay where he was. 

“If I believed in such things, I would say you have bewitched me,” Hannibal confessed, pressing their foreheads together gently, “it is so uncommon for me to want anything so desperately.”

Will laughed softly.

“And what exactly is it that you want?” He asked.

Hannibal kissed him again, feeling that same wanting pulling at his chest like an anchor being dropped into the waves.

“You,” Hannibal answered, “this,” he spoke between kisses, “everything that comes with.”

Hannibal almost felt silly. He had never been on this end of such an obsession, and it felt almost childish. 

Will returned each act of affection, and Hannibal's heart soared.

“Everything that comes with,” Will echoed, seeming thoughtful, “you don't know what that is.”

Hannibal hummed, agreeing.

“I may not know, but I could hazard a guess,” he replied.

Will raised an eyebrow, a moonbeam slanting in from a window and shining on his face.

“I'd be surprised if you could,” Will challenged.

Hannibal accepted that challenge with an enthusiastic kiss, reaching up and pulling Will's loose tie away.

“You would do anything for Abigail,” Hannibal began, deciding to start off with the softer topics, “you have done more for her than either of you have told me. You have killed for her.”

Will froze at the words, but made no move to object.

“You killed her father,” Hannibal continued, “and made his bones into wind chimes. You would have killed the young men that harassed her if she had asked, and if I had not done it first.”

Will's eyes widened, but instead of replying to Hannibal's words, he pulled him into a rough, almost desperate kiss. 

“What did you do with the bodies?” Will asked, pulling at Hannibal's own tie.

“I had intended to feed them to you tonight, though you were quicker to extend an invitation than I,” Hannibal answered, “I am in no way disappointed by this turn for the evening.”

Will chuckled, pulling Hannibal away from the door and toward the hall.

“You mean you enjoyed having all of your senses assaulted by my Cajun living?” Will asked.

Hannibal kissed him as he was pulled through a door into what must have been Will's bedroom.

“I enjoyed every moment,” Hannibal answered, “and I relish new experiences. I am not so set in my ways as to be incapable of enjoying others.”

Will chuckled.

“And to think, I thought I would end up having to kill you,” he mused.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

“You recognized the wind chimes,” Will explained, “most people wouldn't take kindly to finding out they were made of human bones. Like you said, I have, and would again, kill to protect Abigail, and our life here. I would kill you if you threatened it.”

Hannibal grinned.

“I would expect nothing less from you,” he said.

Will pulled them both down into the bed, and Hannibal was prepared to have yet another surprisingly pleasant experience that night.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always open for questions, so don't be shy in the comments if I made no sense in this fic. Don't be shy if I made perfect sense. Just don't be shy. I love to talk to you guys.
> 
> Thanks for reading. <3


End file.
